


dreaming of you when i’m alone

by queercarlgrimes



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: :) happy only, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cuddling, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Flirting, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, No Avengers Endgame, No Infinity War, Pining, Sleepovers, Underage Drinking, also this isnt in the fic but flash has a juul just so yall know, just a little bit, kinda. this starts w theyre already kinda friends, theyre TEENAGE BOYS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 11:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18799360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queercarlgrimes/pseuds/queercarlgrimes
Summary: waiting at his window each night, flash felt vaguely like princesses in a tower, waiting for a knight in shining silver armor.





	dreaming of you when i’m alone

The summers were easier. 

 

Flash slept with his window open, the breeze through the city keeping his room cooler, and he was high enough in his building that there was no risk of break-ins. 

 

No risk of _unwanted_ break-ins, that is. 

 

As usual, the fire escape started creaking right around 10:37. Wherever Peter was when he decided to turn in for the night at 10:30, it never took more than ten minutes to get from there to Flash’s house. It was a routine that had taken its time becoming regular. 

 

The first time Peter came by was just a quick stop, and Flash had almost never been happier to see him. Without school to distract him and no need for a job, Flash spent most of his days in his room or just walking aimlessly around the city. The text that Peter had to “swing by” was an unexpected surprise. He had made sure there was water on hand and Peter clattered on the fire escape, struggled with the window, and promptly collapsed on the floor with a deep and content sigh. 

 

After that it became routine. He would come by, down a bottle of water and a sandwich, and the two would sit on Flash’s bed and talk until midnight. Flash loved hearing Peter talk about his patrols, no matter how little had happened by Peter’s standards. He loved seeing the pictures that Peter would snap on his phone of birds or the sky or the occasional selfie with a webbed up criminal. 

 

After a few visits in which Peter would shower and be resigned to redressing in sweaty, wrinkly clothes, Flash finally gave in and offered Peter a spare shirt and old pair of sweatpants. Peter took them skeptically and Flash seemed to jump back into bully mode under pressure. 

 

“You stink after patrols, Parker,” he teased. “I don’t care if you shower, next time you show up without a change of clothes I’m making you sit on the floor.”

 

•

 

Despite Flash’s threat, the first time Peter spent the night was an accident. Peter had showered and thrown on some of Flash’s old clothes after a particularly long day, the two pressed close under the covers to watch movies on Flash’s laptop. Peter was asleep within minutes, his head lolled onto Flash’s shoulder with that dark brown hair falling into his eyes. 

 

The only time Peter started stirring was when his phone rang, and on instinct Flash grabbed at it and answered, if only to keep Peter asleep. 

 

“Peter? Are you on your way home? It’s pretty late and–“

 

“Hi Ms. Parker,” Flash interrupted her as politely as possible. “Um, it’s Flash? Thompson? I know Peter from, uh, decathalon.”

 

There was a surprised hum before she responded. “Well, is Peter okay?”

 

“Yeah, he’s sleeping right now. He isn’t hurt, I checked. We had ramen noodles for dinner,” he was rambling and he knew it. He was certain that peter had to have told his aunt how Flash had mistreated him in the past, and had no idea what she knew now. “He’s safe.”

 

May hummed again, more pleased. “Well, thank you, Flash. can you just make sure he gets over here safe tomorrow, please?“

 

“Of course Ms. Parker.”

 

“Oh please no!” she laughed suddenly and Flash jumped, holding the phone away from his face. “No, that makes me feel old. Peter’s friends just call me Aunt May.”

 

Peter’s friends. He smiled and chuckled quietly. “Thank you, May. Goodnight.”

 

“Goodnight, boys.”

 

He put the phone down and exhaled deeply, the content feeling from before growing. He was one of Peter’s friends, no questions asked. 

 

“Thank you,” Peter mumbled sleepily, and Flash nearly jumped out of his skin again. Peter giggled and had the audacity to roll away off of Flash and onto his own pillow as if he didn’t just steal Flash’s heart away. “Everything okay?”

 

Flash nodded and slid down to lay down next to him, turning on his side to look at Peter. He squinted and quirked his mouth up in a smile. “You been telling you aunt about me? She called me your friend.”

 

Whatever Flash was expecting, he wasn’t sure, but the hurt puppy look wasn’t it. Sleepy, sad eyes and a furrowed brow. “Are we not friends?”

 

He sputtered and managed to scoff out a laugh, shaking his head frantically. “No no, no! That’s- that’s not what I meant! I swear, come on Peter! I just... I wasn’t sure... I’m,” he stuttered again, but Peter was starting to smile now. “I’m glad we’re friends. I just wasn’t sure if you told Aunt May that I wasn’t an asshole anymore.”

 

“Oh, that,” Peter sighed in momentary relief before groaning into the pillow. “Yeah, duh! You think I was out hours later than usual and she didn’t ask questions?”

 

Flash managed to get a clear answer out this time, though the flush on his cheeks was unmistakable. “Was I wasn’t sure what your answer would be.”

 

They were both quiet for a moment, just observing each other. The laptop had long since turned off, the only lights being from the busy new york streets outside. The shadows over Peter’s face were angled just right against his jaw and nose and around his messy hair, making Flash smile softly. Peter smiled back. 

 

“We’re friends, Flash. And I’m tired,” Peter yawned. “Do you like to cuddle?”

 

The two spent a minute giggling and getting comfortable, Flash doing his best not to implode from affection. Peter fell asleep almost immediately, face tucked into Flash’s shoulder, one arm across his waist and the other under his pillow. Flash was too scared to move and risk waking Peter, so he had no idea if it were minutes or hours that he lied there until he actually fell asleep. He didn’t really care. 

 

•

 

**peter** : as much as it pains me to say this. I think I need to go home tonight

 

**flash** : >:/ i guess

 

**peter** : :( sorry

 

**peter** : I need clean clothes bro

 

**flash** : i can give you clothes dude

 

**peter** : oh trust me I’ll TAKE your clothes but also I want to see my aunt

 

**flash** : alright i’ll give u that

 

**peter** : tomorrow tho!! we’ll make a system like I’m a divorcee kid. every other day or something I’m all yours!!

 

**flash** : tell your aunt i said hi then shes sweet

 

**peter** : you should spend the night over here sometime!!! she keeps asking about u and I think she rly likes you 

 

**flash** : really?

 

**peter** : yes!

 

**flash** : lmao okay thanks peter parker 

 

**peter** : :)!!!!

 

•

 

Flash’s parents never asked questions. Even the one time Flash came home from lunch and found his mother in his room, skeptically holding up a shirt that said “never trust atoms, they make up everything.”

 

The first thought he had was “That means Peter is wearing one of my shirts.”

 

“That’s mine,” he said quickly. “My friend got it for me.”

 

“It’s not very funny.”

 

He managed to laugh, inclined to agree but feeling some sense of indignation on Peter’s behalf. “It’s a little funny?”

 

She fixed him with a teasingly hard stare and put the shirt on his bed. “Be careful, Eugene. You’re in your room too much.”

 

“I’m fine, mama,” he huffs out, prickling with annoyance. //It’s not like you ever try to get me out, and nothing good ever happens when I do. “I like being alone, that’s all.”

 

She puttered around as moms do, told him to reorganize his desk, go through his closet, clean under his bed, and he managed not to explode. He only exhaled when she finally left and he locked the door behind her. 

 

Flash let himself fall backwards on his bed and promptly screamed when he looked up at the ceiling. 

 

“Shhhh! Shut up! Shh!” Peter whispered quickly, dropping down and throwing a hand over Flash’s mouth. He was grinning and breathing heavy from trying not to laugh too loud. There was a brown paper bag in his other hand. 

 

“Eugene? Are you okay?” his mom’s slightly panicked voice asked through the door. 

 

“Stubbed your toe,” Peter mouthed to Flash as he moved his hand, and Flash repeated the words shakily. 

 

His mother groaned. “I told you to pick up!”

 

She left and Peter had collapsed into stiffled laughter on the bed, not even bothering to flinch away from the playful slaps Flash was delivering to his arm. 

 

“You almost gave me a fucking heart attack!” Flash chastised, managing to laugh. “Jeez, what are you doing?”

 

“I brought you a sandwich from delmar’s,” Peter gestured to the bag.

 

Flash sat on the bed and opened the bag skeptically, looking up at a bashful Peter when he saw the wrapped sandwich next to a bag of Doritos. “What was this for?”

 

“I stole one of your shirts.”

 

“So you bought me lunch?”

 

Peter just shrugged, stretching and laying out on the bed with a quiet groan. Flash did his absolute best to focus on unwrapping his sandwich and not looking at Peter in his suit. “Patrol was slow, I was just... thinking about you.”

 

Flash looked other boy carefully out of the corner of his eye, knowing that if he turned to face Peter directly it would all be over. Peter had an arm slung across his face as he rested and Flash smiled softly. “Thanks, Peter.”

 

Peter’s smile could still be seen, shy and sweet. “Anytime.”

 

They sat and talked as quiet as possible, Peter inhaling the chips and a bottle of water while Flash ate his sandwich. He didn’t like pickles much at all but he ate them anyway. 

 

“I should get back out there,” Peter sighed, sitting up slowly. Flash nodded and finally allowed himself to check out Spiderman as he flexed (was he hallucinating or could he literally see Peter’s abs through his suit?)

 

Peter put his mask on and checked a few times before crawling out onto the fire escape. He stayed crouched there for a moment, probably listening to the AI in his suit or scanning the area for bad guys or something. 

 

Flash leaned on the windowsill. “Are you coming by tonight?”

 

“I might,” Flash caught the teasing in his voice and pulled a face, barely holding back a smile as Peter’s shoulders shook a bit with giggles. “I thought you liked being alone.”

 

“Alone with you,” Flash corrected quickly, throwing in a wink with a burst of confidence. “But she doesn’t need to know that.”

 

He wished Peter wasn’t wearing his mask so he could read his reaction. Instead he just stared into those big white eyes, whirring almost imperceptibly as they dilated mechanically. 

 

“Yeah I’ll see you tonight,” Peter mumbled. “Clean your room.”

 

•

 

Waiting at his window each night, Flash felt vaguely like a princess in a tower, waiting for a knight in shining silver armor. 

 

They stay up late one night and drink some 4 Lokos they managed to get at a 7/11, both kind of hating the taste but not enough to stop. It is enough for Flash to voice this thought anyways, and Peter just smiled. He looked down at his hands, out the window, then back at Flash with stars in his eyes that even Flash couldn’t deny. 

 

“Silver is a terrible color on me,” he said quietly. 

 

“But red looks pretty damn good.”

 

They were quiet, Flash holding his breath. Peter licked his lips and they didn’t hide how their eyes looked each other up and down. Flash thought about it– leaning in right then, kissing him on the bed they’d shared now so many times, the lights of the city in the back. He thought about how Peter would taste, a mix of the drink and sour patch kids. 

 

But he doesn’t. He can’t. Not like this, he thinks, it can’t be like this. 

 

“Most colors do,” he added lamely. Peter exhaled through his nose almost imperceptibly and Flash feels like a coward. Their eyes met and Peter looked at him for what felt like a long time before he drops his eyes to the bed. “You just... yeah.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

•

 

Nothing changes until early July. Rain had been falling all day and hadn’t let up, and Flash waited dutifully by the window watching the rain and the cars below. 

 

He made a hot pocket and sat on his bed, already browsing netflix for something new. Peter said he wanted to start The Walking Dead and Flash was more of a romcom kinda guy but who knew, maybe it would grow on him. 

 

At 10:30 he made popcorn. Four minutes passed and he went to the closet to grab another blanket, just in case. 

 

10:35, he opened the blinds. 10:37, he checked his phone. He told himself that he would call at 11:00 and he called at 10:49, getting sent to voicemail after the phone rang all the way through. 

 

Panic set in quick. Every time peter has been late at all, he’s come back hurt. Even on the one day when he called to cancel (which had made Flash unreasonably sad) he was hurt the next day. The rain is falling pretty hard, so much that Flash could barely see the street from his window. How could Peter, swinging and trying to fight crime, get through it if he was hurt?

 

He wondered if he should call Aunt May, or the cops, or go to bed. The middle ground that he came to was that he would boil himself water for ramen noodles and if Peter wasn’t there by the time they were finished, he would call Aunt May. 

 

He had barely turned the stove on when he heard a banging at his window and sprinted to his room faster than he ever had at any track meet. Peter was leaning on the glass and practically collapsed into Flash’s arms once the window opened, Peter bringing in enough rain to soak through his shirt. 

 

“Hey,” Peter mumbled weakly. “I’m okay.”

 

“Bullshit,” Flash snapped, managing to haul Peter over to the bed. Peter was shivering, leaning into Flash as a blanket was wrapped around him. He pressed the spider emblem on Peter’s chest and undressed peter’s top half, trying not to gasp at the fresh bruises. “Jesus, Peter, what happened?”

 

“I- I think I broke a rib,” Peter rasped, managing to keep his suit from falling too far down his hips. “Can I have a shirt?”

 

“Just- yeah, change, I’ll- I’ll clean you up,” Flash huffed. He hurried to the closet and returned with soft clothes, sighing as he noticed Peter’s nose bleeding. Though reluctant to leave Peter alone in this state, he made an exception only to run to his bathroom and back with the mini first aid kit. “Okay, sit still.”

 

Peter nodded quietly and finally exhaled deeply, eyes shutting as he let Flash take care of him. He barely flinched when Flash lifted his shirt- slowly, waiting for Peter to tell him off- to press an ice pack to one of the nastier bruises on his torso. 

 

“I didn’t know you were a medic.”

 

“Do you have a concussion?” Flash ignored Peter’s banter. Peter shook his head and flash felt for bruises before sighing deeply. “What even happened?”

 

“Well I,” he tried to wipe the blood off his upper lip and ended up smearing it across his cheek. “I got to outside your window a little bit late and I thought you would be in bed and- and I could surprise you, but then you weren’t there so I started to just, y’know, wait- but then there were gunshots in the alley so I went to check and there was a fight and—“

 

“You’re too sweet for your own good, you know that?” Flash cut him off in exasperation. He used a washcloth to dry Peter’s hair and Peter sighed in protest but didn’t move away. “God, what did you even want to surprise me for? We’re just—“

 

Flash was already so close that Peter just sat up a bit straighter and reached up, cupping Flash’s cheeks to pull him into a kiss. Their noses bumped ungracefully and a noise of surprise died on Flash’s lips, his eyes going wide as he realized what was happening. It was less of a kiss and more like a life-sized version of two Ken dolls having their faces mashed together by a toddler. Just as Flash put a hand on Peter’s shoulder to steady himself, Peter was pulling back, a look on his face that flash could only describe as desperate. 

 

“Okay?” Peter asked, plain and nervous. His eyes were wide, brow creasing. Flash reached up and smoothed the line with his thumb, the gesture strange yet feeling so familiar at the same time. With the same hand he trailed his fingers down Peter’s cheek, almost in a trance, and only seemed to hear Peter by the time he was softly holding Peter’s chin. 

 

Flash nodded and leaned down to kiss Peter properly now. Their lips slotted together slowly, perfectly, _finally_ in the kiss that Flash had been dreaming about for weeks. The one kiss turned into two, two to three, each one full of the words and feelings that he had been unable to voice. Peter had his arms around flash’s shoulders and Flash traced a hand through Peter’s hair, the damp locks still softer than he could’ve imagined.

 

They hardly even separated for air and finally Peter whimpered softly, sparking something in Flash that pushed him to kiss harder until he tasted the metallic tang of blood and pulled back quickly. 

 

“Your nose is bleeding again,” Flash pointed out stupidly. “Uh, by the way, I- you know Parker, just for the record, I was planning on kissing you first.”

 

“I’ve been waiting all summer,” Peter countered quickly, moving his hands to Flash’s hips now for no reason other than he didn’t want to let go of him. Flash dabbed the blood off of Peter’s face with a damp washcloth. “But then I figured, I’m the knight, apparently. So I wanted to, I don’t know... surprise you?”

 

Flash glowed. He brushed the hair off of Peter’s forehead and kissed it gently, giggling when he pulled away. 

 

“You’re never gonna let me forget that princess thing, huh?”

 

“Never.”

 

•

 

The sun is shining when they wake up, puddles in the sidewalk the only proof of the rain the previous night. In fact, to anybody outside Flash’s bedroom, last night might not have been special to anybody. Or maybe it had been- someone giving birth, getting married, getting accepted into college or a new job.

 

But Flash had Peter Parker’s arms around him, and that was all he really wanted. 

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys. endgame made me cry. i almost wanted to write some bittersweet peter/harley but the summary line for this came to me in a daze and i HAD to write it all out. my brain wants me to stay on brand. (but do yall want parkner? i can get yall parkner)
> 
> i’ll eventually update my angel my crime, i just need to figure out what direction to take it in. worst case scenario i have to wait until i see far from home to write more :( if thats the case i’ll try to keep making one shots for yall :))!
> 
> if you wanna talk about endgame or anything message me on tumblr @ hozierist!! xoxo love yall 3000


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